


Emerald pain

by PainIsBlanc



Category: Tintin - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Bad Decisions, Blood, Gen, Haddock - Freeform, Haddock is like a father to Tintin, I'm having way too fun with these tags, Probable development of PTSD, Remember kids don't drink your problems away, Someday this kid will break, Tintin - Freeform, Tintin has been through alot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 12:46:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14853029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PainIsBlanc/pseuds/PainIsBlanc
Summary: Not all adventures get a happy ending. The young man looking back at him through the silvery surface of a mirror seemed like he'd been through hell and back. The hair was a mess, his white shirt and hands covered in blood and the pants ripped. The look in his eyes was tired, scared and tainted by bad memories. He looked older than he actually was. Tintin sighed, took off his torn clothes and started washing himself.





	Emerald pain

Haddock had insisted that Tintin returned to Marlinspike Hall before him to clean himself up and get some rest. The captain had been particularly persistent when it came to that last part, as he could see just how tired the younger man looked. He seemed like he would fall apart any second, shouldn't the older man take his responsibility. In the end he had to have Thompson and Thomson forcefully drive the lad home, as the younger man refused to do so himself. Haddock could take care of the remaining paper work. He was old. He had seen a lot unpleasant things in his life. The boy needed a bath and a shuteye. He needed to be allowed to forget for a few minutes.

 

Tintin had arrived at the Marlinspike Hall an hour later. He was more or less carried up to the front door and the police officers stayed until they were certain he was inside, safe in Nestor's care. The heavy door closed behind the redhead and the butler gently reached out his hand to take the other's coat, a glint of worry in his kind eyes.

 

"I'm fine, Nestor", Tintin tiredly waved the older man off.

 

"Are you sure, sir?" the balding man asked and eyed the boy's untidy clothes and the dried, dark stains that covered most of the upper part of his body and hands. Tintin nodded and made for the stairs with lowered eyes. Snowy followed worriedly in his friend's footsteps, his head and tail hanging low in shared sympathy. All Tintin wanted was to close his eyes and fall asleep for a long, long time. Forget the world and pretend that evil didn't exist.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

But evil is very much real. There was no way to deny that as the young reporter washed the blood off of his hands in one of the Hall's luxurious bathrooms. The blood that wasn't his own. The blood of a girl with emerald eyes that had died in his arms just mere hours ago. The memory of her last moments alive flashed through his mind like a painful moving picture. The way she had ran from her kidnappers towards him, her eyes glistening with hope. That slow moment when Tintin saw the man behind her raise his gun. The sound of shots. Her eyes widening in fear and surprise. Her limp body collapsing in Tintin's arms. Her blood getting smeared all over him as he tried to start her heart again, repeatedly crying out her name to make her stay awake. And finally the spark in her green eyes going out, never to be lightened again...

 

Tintin stumbled back in the bathroom. His back hit the wall opposite to the basin and he pressed his palms to his eyes in an attempt to wipe the images away. But of course, it was fruitless. The pictures stayed, as vivid as ever. He slid down the wall and sat on the cold floor with his head resting against the tiles supporting his back. She was only 14, a bright star with her entire life ahead of her. But she had been unfortunate enough to be the daughter of an extremely rich man with connections to the Yakuza. She was kidnapped for ransom but rather than just accepting the money and move on, the kidnappers had decided that they wanted to send a powerful message. Just as the girl was about to return to her family, they shot her and left the place in the chaos that followed. No one knew to where.

 

It had all started so innocently. Tintin had found out about an old Aztec relic he wanted to write about. The relic was owned by a rich businessman and it all seemed like a basic job, mildly boring even as it would probably be a regular interview. Tintin, however, bought Haddock with him to take care of Snowy while he was working. By the time they arrived at the businessman's estate in Hakone not far from Tokyo, they found out that the daughter of the house had been kidnapped. Tintin couldn't just stand idle and force his interview upon the devastated man. So he and Haddock went to look for the girl. When it was time for the exchange; one million for the girl, Tintin insisted on being the one delivering the money and receiving the girl so neither she nor the rest of her family would be in danger. Her parents and younger brother stayed at a safe distance by their car, overlooking the rescuing of the girl. But the kidnapping was never about money. As it turned out later, it was more personal than that. Something about a feud that went way back, brothers betraying brothers and a will to show off power. And in the end, the young girl became the one who had to pay a priceless debt.

 

"Dammit", Tintin muttered and slammed his head against the wall. Snowy looked at him and whimpered while placing his head in his master's lap for comfort. The reporter smiled weakly.

 

"I'm sorry, Snowy. I'm fine. Just need some sleep", he said soothingly and petted the dog's head. A soft knock was heard at the door.

 

"Are you alright, master Tintin?" Nestor's voice was heard and the younger man stood up. His eyes wandered to the bathtub longingly but he felt the exhaustion slowly taking over like a black cloud. He was free from the blood now, his dirty shirt was in the basket for laundry and he had clean pants on. He could take a bath later.

 

"No worries. I'm coming out now", he called back to the butler, more cheerful than he actually felt and opened the door.

 

"Just need to lay down for a bit", he added with a smile as Nestor opened his mouth to once again ask if he was sure. The butler simply nodded to that and followed the younger man with his eyes as he made for the guestroom he usually used when he visited the estate.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Time and again, Snowy was interrupted in his light slumber as Tintin tossed and turned in the bed. The reporter couldn't relax. As soon as he fell asleep he had terrible nightmares and when he woke up he was cruelly reminded that it wasn't just a dream. The girl was dead. Her emerald eyes would never glisten in the sun again.

 

"Great snakes!" Tintin hissed and sat up fully, his fist curling into the fabric of the duvet. Tears were burning behind his eyes but he refused to let them fall. He had seen a lot of terrible things, why was this etching itself in to his mind like a poisonous worm? After a few rapid breaths, Tintin realized that the thoughts wouldn't leave him alone, that sleep just wouldn't come and he got out of bed and went down to the library. Nestor was nowhere to be found and Tintin walked idly along the tall shelves, looking for nothing in particular. His furry little companion followed him like a white shadow as if his very presence was all that kept his master from breaking down. The redhead soon found himself at a large desk with books concerning the Unicorn, Red Rackham and Sir Francis Haddock and drawings of ships strewn all over it. It seemed like the captain had been digging deeper into his past the last months and a small smile tugged at the corners of Tintin's lips at the older man's devotion.

 

"What do you think, Snowy?" Tintin started and the dog perked his eyes at the sound of his name. "Should I help the captain a little, seeing as I obviously won't get any sleep anyway?" He frowned at the last bit but then sat down at the mahogany furniture and looked through the notes and open books. His naked toes suddenly hit something cold under the desk. There was a _clonk_ at the impact and Tintin pushed the chair out to see what it was. Under the desk, pushed back as fair as it was possible with an old handkerchief lazily thrown over it, was a bottle of Loch Lomond. Tintin took it out and looked at it with irritation. Now, he was fine with the captain drinking, he was a grown man after all, capable of making his own decisions. But Tintin was not fine with him hiding liquor and especially not where he was working, seeing as he forgot things when he... A switch went on in the young reporter's mind and he put the bottle down on the furniture before him and eyed it thoughtfully. The captain forgot. And then, he fell asleep...

 

Tintin wasn't a great fan of alcohol. He could take a glass of wine or champagne when it was needed for good manners but most of the time he wanted to keep his mind sharp. This evening though, it was a little too clear for his taste and as he looked at the brown liquor he made a decision he knew he would regret. He heard footsteps behind him and just as Nestor came into view, the butler's eyes widening as he saw the bottle in the young man's hand, Tintin put the glass to his lips and gulped down a mouthful that tasted like shame, remorse and downfall.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Captain Archibald Haddock walked up the stairs to his mansion. He stroked his beard tiredly and fantasized about his soft bed with fresh, lavender scented linens. The past days had been tough for everyone involved and he longed for just taking it easy for a few days. But most of all he hoped that the kid was alright. He hadn't seemed all too well when he was forced to return to the Hall. The captain opened the green door to said house and stepped inside. The first thing that struck him was that Nestor didn't meet him at the door immediately but instead came walking rather uncharacteristically fast from the library with a hint of rarely seen stress painting his features. The second thing the captain realized was that Snowy didn't come to greet him. Haddock opened his mouth but before he had any time to ask anything, Nestor beckoned him to follow him back to the library.

 

"I'm so sorry, sir. I tried to stop him", the butler said as he led the captain down the many shelves, heavy with books.

 

"What are you-" Haddock started but was cut short by the scene that was playing out before him: Tintin, bare-chested with bare feet, loudly singing with an almost empty bottle of _his_ Loch Lomond in his hand. Books and papers lay all over the floor and Snowy tried to hide behind the desk, obviously frightened by his friend's strange behaviour. The young reporter hadn't noticed the captain yet and Haddock turned to the butler.

 

"Thank you Nestor. I'll handle this", he said and the other man bowed lightly and left the room, obviously relived to not be the one to deal with it.

 

"Lad?" Haddock called out and Tintin swirled around rather unsteadily.

 

"Captain! How nice to see you. I was wondering when you'd be back", the younger man said in an, to the captain, all too familiar slurred voice.

 

"Are you alright, Tintin?" Haddock continued with worry written all over his face. To that Tintin just giggled at first, a sound the captain wasn't sure he'd ever heard before.

 

"Seems like everyone is asking me that today. I'm not made of glass you- Opsie!" Tintin stumbled but landed, rather ungracefully, on the chair next to the desk. More giggling escaped his lips. _Fantastic_ , Haddock thought. _The boy isn't just drunk, he's outright wasted._ The older man took a step closer to the half naked reporter.

 

"Can I have the bottle?" Haddock said and reached out a hand but the other man just clutched it protectively to his chest.

 

"Nope! Finders keepers and all that", he said cheerfully.

 

"Well, it _is_ mine. I bought it."

 

"With my money", the redhead shot back. The captain threw his hands up in defeat. It didn't really matter. It was just a few centimetres left; it wouldn't really change anything if the boy drank them or not. Haddock tried a different approach then.

 

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked with a raised eyebrow and arms crossed, a stern look on his face. That seemed to have effect as the younger man stopped smiling, put the bottle down on the desk and met the other's eyes with a frown.

 

"You're not my old man, you know", Tintin slurred rather childishly.

 

"And I'm not trying to be", Haddock responded, knowing his words were only partly true. Half of him wanted to hug the boy and tell him that everything would be fine and 49 percent wanted to send him to his room for being rude. The last one percent that wanted to treat the other like an equal grown up won, however.

 

"You're not well, Tintin. I know these past events was hard on you but this is not the way to handle it." He motioned to the almost empty bottle. "I know that more than anyone", he added finally and stared at the other for some kind of response. The reporter tilted his head to the side as if the words coming from the captain's mouth was in one of the few languages he didn't understand. Then he stood up abruptly, caught himself from falling over and walked up to the taller man. There was something strange in his eyes now. Something dangerous.

 

"You know, posing like that, you don't look too bad", Tintin almost purred.

 

"Come again?" the captain said in surprise, his arms dropping to his sides in a confused gesture. Tintin was just inches away from him now, so close Haddock could feel the heat from his body and the scent of whiskey on his breath.

 

"I couldn't forget", Tintin whispered incoherently. "I needed to get the images out." As the reporter closed the space between them even more, the penny in the air dropped like a brick in the captain's mind and he tried to take a step back but Tintin's hand was on his neck now, needy fingers tangled into black hair.

 

"They're still there though. Please I... I can't get her eyes out of my mind!" There was an even quieter "help me" whispered at the end of the sentence that almost broke the captain's heart, a vulnerability that was rarely seen in the spirited reported. But this behaviour too wasn't unfamiliar to the captain. He knew what anxiety and too much alcohol did to a person and he knew he needed to act now before the boy made a big mistake.

 

"Stop it, laddy", Haddock said as he raised a hand to free his hair from the other man's delicate touch. Their lips were too close now...

 

"Tintin! Stop!" the captain said again as he softly grabbed the other's wrists and jerked them away, providing some distance between them in the process. Tintin's eyes snapped wide at the stern voice but the eyes that met his wasn't angry or disgusted, just worried and kind. The younger man took a step back and Haddock let him go as he slumped down heavily in the chair behind him.

 

"I'm sorry", the reporter mumbled. "I'm so, so terribly sorry." He was crying now. His face was covered by his hands but Haddock could see it in the way the boy's shoulders shook from the choked sobs. The reporter seemed to shrink in the big library and Haddock gently sat down in front of him and placed a hand on his back for whatever he could provide by doing so; comfort, closeness, a promise that this too would pass.

 

"It's alright, lad. I'm here. I got you."

 

"But you don't understand", Tintin sniffled. "I failed! I never fail, not like this! I couldn't save her, captain. No matter what I did, I couldn't... And I can't get it out of my head! I thought if I, I don't know..." His voice faded away as another sob rose in his throat and the captain kept rubbing his back with a steady, warm palm. With his free hand he gently gripped the other's chin and tilted his face up. The redhead had a hard time focusing his gaze, but it didn't disturb the captain much.

 

"You didn't do anything I haven't experienced or even done myself before, so you have nothing to be ashamed of. When it comes to the lass, there was nothing you could've done differently. The people that took her would've killed her anyway. Life isn't always beautiful. The good guys rarely win, but we can do what we can to make this world a better place." Haddock ran a hand through Tintin's hair in a soothing attempt to tame some of the more than usual unruly strands.

 

"That girl got to see her family one last time and died in the arms of someone who tried to save her, rather than some dirty basement somewhere, full of creepy strangers. You made a difference, Tintin", the captain continued. He then added:

 

"What did I tell you when we first met? About hitting a wall?"

 

"That you push through it?" Tintin responded thickly.

 

"Exactly! You'll be fine, laddy. You're not alone."

 

There was a silence in which Tintin pondered whether or not he would be able to stand. The happy, carefree euphoria he had experienced in the first moments of his drunkenness had eventually made way for a thick, disgusting lump in his throat that tasted like bile. His entire body felt heavy and he seemed to be stuck inside it, looking out as it moved without him having any control over it.

 

"My head hurts", he mumbled after a while.

 

"Yeah, no wonder if you downed that all by yourself", Haddock chuckled heartedly and gained a smile from the other man as well.

 

"Can you stand?" he then added and stood up, while reaching out a hand for his friend.

 

"Kinda", Tintin admitted sheepishly and accepted the other's hand and allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. He slumped against the other's body and Haddock more carried than supported the young reporter out of the library.

 

"Let's get you to bed", the captain said and to that, Tintin had no protests at all.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Despite Tintin often being the more mature of the two, Haddock saw himself as some kind of father figure to the lad. If he had no kids of his own or if none of the little Haddocks that might be running around somewhere in the world didn't come knocking on his door, the captain was planning on giving the Marlinspike Hall to Tintin, along with its secrets and treasures. Blistering barnacles, he might let him inherit it anyway! The old captain looked down at the sleeping reporter from where he himself was positioned at the edge of the big bed. A pale ray of the morning's first sunlight made its way through the heavy curtains and Haddock was reminded that he hadn't slept at all last night. Taking the wasted redhead up the stairs to bed proved to be quite an adventure and then followed the inevitable vomiting and dehydration that came with too much heavy drinking in a too short amount of time. It was way past midnight when Tintin had finally fallen asleep and Haddock couldn't find it in himself to leave the room, should the boy have a nightmare (which had happened once during the night) or just be in need of company.

 

Haddock reached down to the foot of the bed and scratched the sleeping dog there behind his ear. Snowy had been through a lot as well and he had earned his sleep as much as the humans in the room with him. The scratching was nice but not enough to wake him completely from his slumber.

 

A light rustle behind the captain made him turn around. Tired eyes met his and Haddock couldn't help but notice a slight shade of red on the other's cheeks as he suddenly seemed to realize something and hurriedly averted his gaze. Haddock pretended he hadn't seen it though. Doing stupid things out of frustration, loneliness or (and sometimes 'and') under the influence of alcohol was a part of life. Well, at least the life he had led and within reasonable limits, of course.

 

"Did I wake you?" Haddock asked and turned so he could eye the reporter more carefully. He seemed a lot better than yesterday but he was still pale and looked like he could need some more sleep.

 

"No, no. I simply woke up. I'm still feeling a bit sick and I have a headache", Tintin admitted and rubbed his head thoughtfully.

 

"I'm sorry about yesterday, by the way. It was stupid of me. I'll... I'll buy you another bottle as compensation", he then added and looked back at the captain with an embarrassed expression on his face. Haddock simply smiled.

 

"Don't worry about it. It was yours anyway, remember?" he said and winked while standing up.

 

"Well, it looks like you could do with some more rest and so would I. I'll be in my room if you need me", the captain continued and headed for the door but stopped halfway and turned back to the bed.

 

"If you need to talk I'm here for you. Just...don't forget that, alright, lad?" Haddock added softly and received a light nod from the redhead before he drifted back into sleep. Haddock hoped that this time, it would be a dreamless one.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Once again I'm doing one of these one shots to just clear my head while dealing with alot of other stuff in my life, (you know work, school, taxes, getting up in the morning). 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this! I recently rewatched "The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn" with my sis and, well, let's just say I fell down the fandom rabbit hole again XD
> 
> This one is mostly based on the movie but I had the comics in mind while writing it and I just ordered the complete collection of the TV-series, so you might see more, more canon based Tintin-works from me in the future. Maybe. If I get my ass around, sit down and finish my other works XD  
> It also wasn't until I reread my own text and came to the part where Tintin wakes up, before he gets down to the library, that it hit me like "Wow, did I just made this guy have a mild panic attack?" Well, considering all the stuff he's been through it wouldn't be strange actually. I mean, how many times have he been shot!?
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! I look forward to your thoughts! Till next time, lovelies! <3


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